Our eyes met from across the street.
It was an empty moment, a missed opportunity.
The moon sang her old lady blues
and our footsteps kicked off brick walls like bells.
The wind blew abandoned papers
down the sidewalk.
We met in the middle and looked at the moon.
The dim shine reflected from the glass
and played 7 card stud in my hair.
The homeless cats mewed long and hard.
They refused to lick and clean one another.
We walked together for awhile, you and me.
You looked like a chimney,
burning inside.
I was as I always am, indifferent.
The moon slid between us.
We had nothing, carried nothing in our hands.
About April Michelle Bratten:
April Michelle Bratten is a writer currently living in Minot, North Dakota. She has had recent work published in Southeast Review and San Pedro River Review. She co-edits the online literary journal Up the Staircase Quarterly.
Bravo! I can't choose just one line that moves me more than the last one...word painting...!
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